


Band-Aid Effect

by Chephirah95



Category: Avengers (Comics), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types, Thor (Comics), Thor (Movies), Thor - All Media Types
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Childhood Sexual Abuse, Childhood Trauma, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Manipulation, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Explicit Sexual Content, Heavy Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Implied Childhood Sexual Abuse, Implied/Referenced Incest, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Implied/Referenced Underage Sex, Past Child Abuse, Past Rape/Non-con, Unresolved Emotional Tension
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-01-03
Updated: 2018-01-03
Packaged: 2019-02-22 21:51:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,963
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13175931
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Chephirah95/pseuds/Chephirah95
Summary: This is for an avengerkink prompthttp://avengerkink.livejournal.com/7293.html?thread=13758077#t13758077One night, when the Avengers are hanging out chatting/recovering from a traumatic mission/discussing a rape that happened to someone they know, they realize slowly as they talk that all six of them have been raped at least once at some point in their lives. At first, it's hard to open up, but in the end emotional h/c and camaraderie and quiet support and understanding ensues.+ non-cliche and non-obvious incidents, i.e., no Clint getting mind controlled into it by Loki, no Tony being molested by Obadiah/raped by his captors in Afghanistan, no Natasha being abused by her trainers, etc.+++ Thor tries to brush off whatever happened to him/denies it was rape, because Asgardian culture has rather fucked-up views about sex and/or acceptable behavior and he doesn't realize how it sounds to humans. I have a hankering for The Enchantress' trickery here, though I'm quite open to other ideas.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This story is pretty dark and I hope I did the serious subject real justice. Some concerns in the story are problems people really deal with. Self-blame, denial, fear etc... No one's experience is invalid and you all deserve heroes who know how it is and what it takes to get to a better place.
> 
> Hugs & Kisses To ALL
> 
> (I don't own MARVEL)
> 
>  
> 
> FOR SOME REASON I CAN'T FIND THIS WORK IN MY WORKS SO I JUST RE-UPLOADED IT. I THINK I ACCIDENTALLY DELETED IT. SORRY.

Everyone was in attendance. Tony, Steve, Bruce, Natasha, Clint, and Sam. Movie night had been abandoned. Nobody felt like watching anything. Instead, the topic of discussion turned to Steve’s nonexistent love life, which was currently being spurred on by Tony.

“So Cap, ever have a girlfriend?”

“Well…”

“Other than Aunt Peg?” His faced turn an awful shade of pink. It’s a well known fact that Steve is very private concerning certain matters.

“So are you still a virgin or…?

Several shouts of “Tony!” could be heard.

“What? It’s an honest question. Don’t tell me none of you are curious? So Cap, yay or nay?”

“Tony… it’s… none of your business!”

There was a general consensus of laughter. Everyone knew Steve wouldn’t answer just as much as everyone knew Tony wasn’t just going to drop it.

“So you mean to tell me that you’re a 70-year-old virgin? That’s just sad Cap. Even for you.”

The tips of Steve’s ears were red and you could tell he wanted to be anywhere other than here.

“I’m not a virgin so cram it Stark!”

This was met with loud whoops and ‘I knew you had it in you Steve’s.

“I’m sure after the Serum you had your pick of the crop.” Tony elbowed Steve as if they were sharing a common secret.

“It was before that.” His reply was spoken softly and with no little awkwardness.

“Well  _Damn_. Way to go Cap.”

For the most part the conversation was between Tony and Steve until Sam joined in.

“So who was the lucky lady that deflowered our sweet Cap?” This was said with a suggestive wink.

Steve started to get uncomfortable. He was slightly shifting in his seat and playing with the edge of the table.

“She was older.”

The guys really got a kick out of that.

“How old was she?” At this point everything was still light hearted.

“Around 30 I think.”

“A MILF?” Several groans were heard.

“Stop it Tony! You know he doesn’t know what that means. And trust me, you don’t want to Steve.” This came from Natasha who had been pretty much silent up until then.

“So how old were you? 18? 19?” Steve visibly tensed at Clint’s question.

“Uhh… almost 11 if I remember correctly.”

You could have heard a pen drop. The mood shifted quickly after that. The only one who still seemed amused was Thor and he didn’t understand the Midgardian age system. To him we were all babies.

“Steve-“ Bruce was interrupted.

“It’s not like that! She was my nurse. Sure it was weird at first, but it got better.” He blushed at the last part.

“Steve…” Bruce again.

“No Bruce. Don’t look at me like that. You’re all looking at me like that. She was just helping me. I was sick all of the time and never got to go outside to play. She was  _helping_  me.”

“Steve. She…”

He cut Sam off this time. Clint looked sick, Natasha’s face was a mask, Tony was looking everywhere but at Cap, and Thor was only now noticing the tension in the room.

“No Sam. It’s okay. It’s not like she was a guy or anything. Then it would be different.”

The room seemed to shrink at that.

“No Steve.” This came from Bruce.

“No it wouldn’t have. She took advantage of you Steve.”

“Stop. Stop it. Nobody was taken advantage of. I  _liked_  it.” Steve seemed to be battling with himself. He didn’t sound very sure anymore.

“Sexual arousal is just a biological thing. It doesn’t mean…” This time he cut Natasha a glare.

“It can’t be bad if I liked it Nat. I know what you’re thinking and you’re wrong. I didn’t fight her. I was  _okay_  with it.” Steve was looking around frantically. Desperately trying to get everyone,  _anyone_ , to understand.

“I fear I am lost in this matter?” Everyone turned to Thor. No one wanted to be the one to have to explain to him the significance of what was going on. Steve seemed a little relieved that the focus was no longer on him.

Clint took up the cause.

“Steve was underage. He couldn’t give consent to anything sexual because he was just a kid. His nurse was an adult and she knew better.” He aimed that last part at Steve.

Thor still seemed confused.

“But if he says he liked it. Is it so bad?”

“Physically being aroused doesn’t mean you liked being abused. Doesn’t mean you liked being manipulated. She was the adult and she was wrong. How can a child consent to that?”

“Nay! You misunderstand shield friends. Before I myself reached the age of majority, I found pleasure in a woman.”

The room seemed a little nervous at this. Natasha took over then.

“If you were both close in age it’s different. If they were an adult, then that’s the problem.”

“She was well past my age, but like friend Steve said. It was not bad.” Now Thor looked even more confused. He really wanted us to understand that his abuse was okay.

“Thor… you were taken advantage of too.”

“It is not so. My father knew.” Now shit really hit the fan.

“What do you mean Thor?” Natasha’s tone was deceptively calm.

“It was after my first successful training session. Father provided a woman for me. To celebrate my prowess in class.” Bruce looked like he was turning green.

“Thor. I want you to listen to me carefully. You Father shouldn’t have done that—“

“It’s an age old tradition. Once you are able to train you are rewarded with—“

“Stop Thor please.”

“Nay. You still misunderstand. I am victim of nothing. I was uncomfortable at first, but that is only because it was my first time. I liked it in the end.”

Everyone drew the parallels between Steve and Thor’s accounts. Bruce was the next to take up the mantle, and thus far the most successful.

“So when my uncle did that to me it was okay because I got aroused?” Every head turned to Bruce. But he was only focusing on Steve and Thor.

“Of course not! He’s a  _guy_!”

“Nay, he’s  _kin_!”

Everyone got a sad look on their face and Bruce powered through.

“I know you might have had to tell yourself that, but it is wrong. If no one ever told you it was, it is. I’m telling you now. My uncle wasn’t wrong because he’s male, or because he’s related to me. He’s wrong because what he did to me was wrong. He knew I didn’t have friends. He knew my dad couldn’t care less, and my mom was dead by then. He knew I wouldn’t tell my Aunt either. I didn’t want to go to a boys’ home and she was nice. She reminded me of my mom. He knew that and used it against me. He was wrong. I don’t care how gentle he was or what he said after. He was wrong. I’m sorry that happened to you two because you did nothing to deserve that.”

Bruce was done. He just kept cleaning his glasses and working on his breathing.

Steve and Thor didn’t know what to say. It’s clear they were both struggling with this and were merely repeating things that were said to them.

“She was just trying to help,” Steve practically screamed, “I don’t know why you can’t see that. She wanted me to feel better because I was always sick and wasn’t allowed outside. She  _cared_.”

“Steve. She knew you were lonely and used it to her advantage,” Sam really tried to get this across to Steve, “I know things like this have a way of negatively affecting your life, and you two probably don’t want to talk about it but-“

            “You would think so lowly of me? I am not scarred Son of Wil. I have enjoyed the company of many women!”

            “I’m not traumatized Sam. This generation is just more open than I am.”

"Did you ever tell your mom?'

"No Bruce. She would have been upset," he quickly continued before they got the wrong idea "because you're not supposed to do  _that_  until you're married.

Sam looked near tears.

“Just hear me out okay. You two did nothing wrong. Something bad was done to you. You both said you didn’t want it to begin with. That. Is. enough.”

“Friend Sam, I didn’t refuse her advances.”

“I didn’t fight either. I participated.”

Sam  _was_  crying now.

“Steve. Thor. You didn’t have to fight back. You didn’t have to say no. They knew. They  _knew_.”

“Sam—“

“I’m not finished Cap. My dad was killed when I was 7. You know that. My mom had to pick up extra shifts to make ends meet so she was gone a lot. I spent most of my time after school at the local youth center. The guy over it. He took to me real fast. I thought he was just being nice because my dad had just died. I was glad he was around though. He was nice. I liked talking to another guy. It was just me and my mom. He told me to stay after one day. Said he’d drive me home. He did. But he came in with me and gave me some alcohol. He said I was a man and that it was okay. I got a little tipsy and he took my pants off,” he was breathing faster as he continued to talk “and he raped me. It didn’t feel good. At all. But even if it had. He was still wrong. And just because you became erect doesn’t mean you were asking for it or that your experience was any less than mines. He did that about 7 more times. I didn’t fight any time. I never said no at any time.  But I finally got so scared, I told my mom. He had a good reputation, but my dad did too. He got two years jail and two years probation. He should have gotten more. What those women did were wrong. Thor your dad was wrong too.”

Everyone looked at Sam, grateful that he and Bruce were willing to share what happened to them in order to help Thor and Steve.

Sam was done.

            “Our experiences are not the same Son of Wil. Yours was filled with violence and agony. Anyone who would force themselves upon a child deserves to meet the sword.”

“Fourteen. My maid. I told my mom. She told my dad. He told the authorities. She went to prison. It was all done privately of course. I didn’t get aroused. I did start drinking though.”

Everyone just looked at Tony to finish. He had a glass of Scotch in his hand and downed it one gulp.

“She knew what she was doing was wrong. She tried to trick me. I told her I was just a kid. She said I was a child prodigy. Smart enough to make my own decisions.”

He poured another glass. No one stopped him.

“But she’s rotting in some prison and I’m out here saving the world. Something you said Thor. About sleeping with so many women. Believe me I get it, but it doesn’t mean you aren’t broken. It took Pepper to get me to see that. That’s all I have to say. I got the rest out when my parents made me go to therapy.”

He polished off his drink. Tony was done.

            “Tony… I… it’s not the  _same_. I was  _lucky_. You know how it is. I never would have gotten a girl otherwise. I was lucky.” Steve was grasping at straws now and Thor looked lost.

“No you weren’t.” Natasha’s voice was clinical. She was holding Clint’s hand but nobody cared.

“I was 22. I think. The Red Room didn’t keep time so I’m going off of guesses here. When I went with S.H.I.E.L.D. I still had a lot of my old life programmed into me. I didn’t know I could say no. I didn’t know I could question orders. And I didn’t know some things were against the rules. Before S.H.I.E.L.D. I  _always_  knew the rules. Knowing the rules kept you alive. Two higher ranking officers. Gave me orders to meet in an unmarked room. Some lame cover story about intel. On my 6th month there. The things is, I  _knew_. I knew what was going to happen and I  _still_  went. What I didn’t know was that anyone would care, or that they made those orders up. I thought I was being punished. It was the only thing that had made sense to me since I had gotten there. I was being given too many chances. But I just knew they had finally caught up to the rules that I used to live by. So I went.  _Happy_  that my I could get my punishment and finally be able to work again. And here’s the thing. I could have fought back. I would have been successful too. But I didn’t know any better and they read my file and they knew that. So if anybody here didn’t fight back and could have, it’s me. I finally told Clint. I was glad I was finally punished and was grateful that I would start getting missions now. Clint talked to me, Phil talked to me, and Nick talked to me. We got everything cleared up and those men wont be bothering anyone else.”

            “But Nat, you’re…”

“If you say it’s different because I’m female then you’re invalidating everyone else’s experience in here. And believe me when I say this. Theirs is just as valid. End of discussion.”

Natasha was done. Clint picked up the torch.

            “I was 17. Probably looked younger though. I had just run away from the circus after Barney… Anyways. I ran from the circus and had no job experience, no nice clothes, and no money. I needed to eat and the only skill I had was archery and I had left my bow and arrow at the circus. I walked down the wrong street and this guy stopped me. Middle aged. Nice suit. Nice car. He had money. I know what he wanted. Anyone with eyes could see I was underfed and homeless. He offered me a room for the night, food, and a few hundred dollars. I went with him and he did whatever he wanted. I didn’t feel anything. I was hungry and that was that. It took Fury to explain to me that even though I took the money, he had power over me. I was a kid, he saw my vulnerabilities, and he exploited them. It’s the same with you guys. You were kids, you had vulnerabilities, and they were exploited.”

Clint was done. He was still holding Nat’s hand.

The room was heavy and Steve and Thor had yet to say anything. Everyone was just waiting for the shoe to drop.

Steve started crying silently. Refusing to look anyone in the eye. Thor just had his head in his hands.

            “I’m not a victim. I’m a warrior and…” Thor abandoned his thought “I do not understand. Why would Father let this happen if it were so bad? I tried to get out of it before it happened but he  _assured_  me I would like it. He wasn’t wrong?”

“Society. He probably truly believes it’s okay. There a lot of men and women on earth who would agree with him unfortunately. It doesn’t make you any less a warrior, or you any less a soldier Steve.” This came from Sam who had moved next to Steve to comfort him.

            “Loki didn’t like it either.” Thor’s eyes turned red and his voice was huskier. If he was ever going to cry now was the time. It was shocking Thor was always so brash.

            “I told him I didn’t want to… to… he didn’t care enough. Something always felt off about it but, I don’t know.”

The stayed up the rest of the night comforting each other and sharing tips to help each other out. Steve and Thor weren’t completely healed, but the Band-Aid had been ripped off. At least now the healing could begin.


	2. Bruce

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is a more thorough look into Bruce's confession.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> FOR SOME REASON THIS WORK WAS DELETED FROM MY PERSONAL ACCOUNT SO I AM RE-UPLOADING IT. SORRY FOR THE INCONVENIENCE. I HAVE NOT GIVEN UP ON THIS WORK.
> 
> Don't forget to leave Kudos and comments.
> 
> As always, I DO NOT OWN MARVEL.  
> Hugs & Kisses
> 
> WARNING: GRAPHIC DEPICTION OF NONCON

I was cursed even before I was born. My grandfather, Bruce Banner I, was an abusive alcoholic. He would beat my grandma, dad, and aunts so bad that they would stay away from the house every other weekend. No one ever told me where it was they went. And this is the man I was named after.

It was another one of my dad’s mind games. My first name is Robert, but he made sure no one ever called me that. He insisted my mother call me Bruce. They used to whisper-argue about it before things got too bad at home. He would just tell her that he had already let her name me Robert after her dad. That he deserved  _something_ , and wasn’t marriage all about compromise? Wasn’t it her idea to have a child in the first place when he was against it from the beginning?

I was conditioned to answer to Bruce. Robert just doesn’t fit me now. By associating me with the man he hated most in the world, he was setting me apart from him and my mother. If my father learned anything from his father, it was how to be a terrible parent, how to deceive a woman long enough to get her to marry him, and how to isolate his child so much that he became socially awkward and prone to antisocial behavior.

After my father killed my mother I was sent to live with my aunt Susan and uncle Drake. They were both nice people. Uncle Drake was a bit distant, but that was mostly because he had decided to never have children of his own. My presence was unexpected. It was okay though because I was already 14. I didn’t need to be potty trained, taught to read, or even how to take care of myself. I was practically raising myself by that point anyway. Dad had long since made my mother stay away from me. We tried to see each other but he kept a close eye on us.

He thought  _I_  was a monster because he was, and he thought  _he_  was a monster because his dad was.

I could almost understand how once I was born he started to hate me.  _Almost_.

My aunt Susan was a life saver. I didn’t think either of my aunt’s would be willing to take me in considering all the baggage I came with, but she stepped up to the plate. She was the one who instilled in me a desire to help those less fortunate. She called Child Protective Services and got everything squared away. She was able to take me after my dad got arrested and hospitalized.

My life wasn’t smooth sailing but I wasn’t dreading going home anymore. Home was safe now. I looked forward to it. It was school that was hell.

I transferred to Eastwood Academy in the middle of the first semester. Cliques were already formed and nobody was looking to make friends. I know my aunt Susan was hopeful that I would fit in better, but I wasn’t up to the challenge.

I had only lost my mother a few months before and my dad was a basket case. I didn’t want to be around people and I wasn’t inclined to change that. I guess a part of me wanted someone to talk to, but the rest of me wanted to lose myself in science. It was the only thing I was good at. I was labeled a freak pretty early on. Students would try to talk to me and I would opt to ignore them.

I knew it would set me apart from the others. No one would want to associated with me, but I couldn’t bring myself to care. I was depressed and didn’t know how to channel my anger.

This was a problem for me. I was never allowed to truly be angry about anything that had happened in my life. I was always so consumed with tiptoeing around my dad and his fickle emotions.

For the most part my day was structured. I woke up, went to school, breezed through my homework, helped my aunt with dinner, ate, went to bed, and repeat. It wasn’t until I finally realized that I didn’t have to hide being smart anymore that I truly became a target at school.

I asked my counselor to change my classes to advanced levels. Because the school was known for its prestigious curriculum, I had to test into the classes. The test might as well have been a joke.

It consisted of slightly advanced physics, chemistry, and biology concepts. The math was strictly calculus and the English was mostly on grammar. I finished the test in 46 minutes and 38 seconds. The proctor thought I was joking. I assured her I was not.

I got a perfect score.

I was moved into accelerated classes the next day.

My new classmates didn’t have much of a problem with me. I was quiet and did my work. I was just like them in that aspect. It was outside of these classes that I ran into bullies. Four of them to be exact. I had them for P.E., lunch, and study hall. The school broke the students up by level and last name.

Arthur Blithe, Daniel Booth, Robert Barron, and Joseph Bell.

They were the banes of my existence. The taunting I could handle. It was the physical nature of their bullying that bothered me. For whatever reason, I was having a hard time controlling my temper. It had never been a problem before. I never got cross with adults either. It was just with my peers that I ever lashed out at.

School went like this for weeks. They would destroy my property, knock over my tray, and trip me up during P.E. I would get so angry that I would swing at one of them and then they would all start in on me. These four guys were decently popular, more popular than me at least. I was at the bottom of the barrel.

They turned more students against me. Those who would sit by idly before and ignore me were now joining in on the name calling and “silly” pranks. The teachers were never around. Lunch, P.E., and Study Hall were basically self taught courses. They expected the upper-crest children to behave themselves in a fitting manner. Good for them. Not so good for me.

Several times I went home with a bruise on my arm, a ripped sleeve, dirty jeans, or even a busted lip. They tried to keep the visible damage to a minimum. I don’t know when I became everyone’s favorite target but I was getting sick of it.

I threw myself into my studied. When I got from school I would work on separate science projects. Particularly in chemistry and physics. I would use my dad’s old clearance badge numbers to get access to college level books and do my own studies. It kept me preoccupied.

Even though school was a drag I managed to avoid a lot of conflict. I had my aunt Susan start making me lunch under the guise that I wanted to eat healthier. I would just eat lunch in one of the empty lab rooms. The school had several science classrooms. Study Hall was easily avoidable as well. There was a teacher there at the beginning to sign everyone in and then she left. I would just leave after her and sit in the bathroom. That only left P.E. Unfortunately, there wasn’t much I could do there. If we were in the gym that day I was safe, but if we went outside I was on my own.

The boys in the locker room would do humiliating things like hide my deodorant so I would be smelly during the rest of school. I quickly learned to buy the mini-deodorant’s and keep it in my pocket. They would take my shirts and wet them in the showers leaving me with the musty shirt I had just sweated in. I started keeping shirts in my normal locker and backpack.

I was miserable for a class period, but I survived.

My aunt and uncle became aware that I wasn’t exactly fitting in. So they made me sign up for science club. It was better than I thought, but it took time away from real science. At the very least, there were people who would say hi to me now. I was still a loser, but not as much as before. It didn’t stop the bullying.

Convinced that I was interacting with my peers, my aunt and uncle got off my case about making friends. They were content that I was making good grades, and for the most part not getting into any trouble. I could tell they were still worried though.

It was nice to be worried over even if I didn’t really need it. They were more like parents than my actual parents. My dad because he was horrible, and my mom because she was hardly ever allowed to.

Overall, I was happy with the move.

Then things started getting worse for me.

My aunt got a promotion, but it required her to work longer hours. Not a whole lot of hours more but enough to notice the difference. She was ecstatic and my uncle was happy for her. For the most part we avoided each other when my aunt wasn’t there. We weren’t as awkward as we were with one another as we were when I had just moved in, but we never had a whole lot to say to each other either.

He would ask me about my day and I would ask about his. Then we went on to do our own separate things.

It went like this for maybe 17 days. On day 17 my uncle Drake came into my room and sat on my bed. It was a little weird, but nothing screamed run. We actually had a nice conversation. He was asking about my physics theorem’s and actually giving useful feedback. I let my guard down.

I don’t know when it happened but he was standing behind me and basically breathing down my neck. I was a little tense but he was still just talking about science. I eventually relaxed when he didn’t do anything else. He was only slightly rubbing one of my shoulders. Before he left he kissed my forehead. That was weird, but I put it out of my mind. Maybe he was just opening up to me.

School was the same. My aunt still made time to make me lunch and she always wanted to know about my day. We would talk every night for a few minutes before I had to get ready for bed.

The random touched from my uncle became more frequent, but they weren’t inappropriate. They just felt kind of strange. I chalked it up to the fact that I was never touchy-feely to begin with. The only time men had ever put their hands on me in my life was when they were causing pain. Rationally I was just projecting this onto my uncle.

Even though I was ahead of my peers, my classwork picked up closer to the end of semester finals.

There were a lot of projects, presentations, and last minute details I needed to add on papers. My schedule was so busy that I had to put off my individual studies. I was a bit bummed, but it wasn’t like I wouldn’t have the winter break to make up lost time.

One day I was particularly tired. I was just laying on my bed on my back with my eyes closed. I heard the door open and correctly assumed it was my uncle. I was used to his visits by now.

 He would either sit at my desk or sit on the edge of the bed and talk to me for a little while. Then he would put his hand on my knee or shoulders and kiss my forehead before leaving. I had begun to look forward to his company. He was the only person who seemed interested in my science. I know it sounds lame, but I was starving for attention and shying away from it at the same time.

My dad really did a number on me.

We had been talking like normal when the conversation took a turn for the worse. He was gently rubbing my leg and I still had my eyes closed. His voice was always soothing. He never raised his voice like my dad did.

“You’re a good kid Bruce. You’re nothing like your dad. I know you fear you’ll grow up like him one day. Your aunt sometimes still thinks like that. It’s why we decided to never have kids. Then you came along. She’s finally realizing she’s not a bad person destined to be like her old man. I have to thank you for that.”

I was getting a little chocked up. Emotional conversations like these always choke me up. The thought that people appreciated me and didn’t think I was a monster was overwhelming. I was just used to teachers pitying me when they used to see me covered in poorly hidden bruises. In those days, you minded your own business. How a man ran his family was none of your concern.

He was still rubbing my leg, only this time more earnestly. I was startled into opening my eyes when his free hand grazed my crotch.

“Uncle?”

I was really confused and a little terrified. If had of said it was an accident or just laughed it off and left, I would have gone along with it. But he didn’t.

“Bruce. You’re a good kid and I want to make some things up to you. Just keep your eyes closed and relax.”

“I…I…” I was honestly too spooked to form a coherent response.

“It’ll feel good. It won’t hurt at all. Just keep your eyes closed okay?”

I nodded my head. I wasn’t sure what else I should have been doing.

His hands stopped rubbing my leg and unzipped my pants. He pulled them below my knees and did the same to my boxers. I could feel the blood rushing to my face. I had never touched myself before. I know a lot of the guys my age did, but I just never felt the urge.

His hand lightly caressed me. I still hadn’t moved. He was talking the entire time.

“Just focus on the feeling. You’re a good kid Bruce. You deserve this. I want to make you feel nice okay?”

Even though my eyes were closed they were burning. My throat was restricting too.

He just kept rubbing me and talking softly.

“I know you don’t have any friends and you’re missing your mom. I know you’re angry at your dad, but none of that matters right now.”

I was putty in his hands. He moved and my body reacted. I was starting to sweat a little. I knew this was wrong, but I was kind of hoping he would go a little faster. That his touch would get a little firmer. My breathing was picking up and it was getting harder to keep my eyes closed.

“Uncle…”

“Shhh Bruce. Be quiet and feel.”

I started to open my eyes.

“Keep them closed kid. It’ll make it easier.”

I think he meant for him. It felt good and bad all at the same time. My body had started reacting to his touch and small moans would escape my mouth.

“That’s good Bruce. Come undone. It’s just you and me. Just breathe. Your first time should feel good. I’m going to make sure of it.”

I was panting by now and my body was lifting off of the bed. I was groaning a little bit. But I still kept my eyes closed.

“I knew you would like this Bruce. You’re a smart kid. You know I don’t want to hurt you. I just want to make you feel good okay? This does feel good right?”

“Yes.”

I was wishing he would stop talking and make the pressure go away. It didn’t matter in the end because I finished all over his hand. I was mortified.

“It’s okay Bruce. You did good alright? That was something special just for you.”

He reached and touched my flaccid flesh again and I hissed. It was too sensitive.

“That’s how you know it was good.”

He was chuckling like I he was humoring a toddler who thought they could brush their teeth by themselves. 

I can’t pinpoint why, but I started crying. My shoulders were shaking and I wouldn’t open my eyes.

“It ok Bruce. I know you’re confused but it’s fine now. You did good. I didn’t hurt you right?”

“No.”

“Good. Then you just have to make yourself calm down okay son?”

He was being so nice that I decided to apologize. Maybe I was overreacting.

“Sorry. I just… first time. It didn’t hurt, but…”

I stopped there. He just smiled indulgingly at me.

“I get it. Here let me help you clean up.”

I thought he was get a towel or something but he bent his head and I could feel his breath on me. I embarrassingly started to get a little hard.

“Oh. To be young. Ever had a blow job?”

I nearly fainted and I must have looked it because he laughed at me.

“It’s okay we’ll take it slow.”

Before I could push his head away he took me into his mouth. The whole thing. I was only 14 so I wasn’t as developed, but I was very easily aroused.

I wanted this to stop. It felt good, but I started thinking of aunt Susan. She would hate me. She would finally see that dad was right. That I was a little monster who didn’t deserve my own mother’s love.

“Please no.”

He kept going. I don’t know if he knew what he was doing or if it was just because I was so sensitive but I came fast. He swallowed it. My entire body flushed red when I heard him gulp. He just met my eyes and smiled.

“It was good. You were good. You liked it right?”

I didn’t know how to answer that. It was all too much.

“It’s okay Bruce. It’s a lot to take in. I just want to say thank you for helping me and your aunt okay?”

I nodded dumbly.

When he left I crawled under the covers and tried to sleep. I didn’t want to think of anything. When my aunt came home she popped her head in but I pretended to be asleep. I couldn’t face her.

Instead, I lied in bed and cried to myself. I had taken sex education and read enough books to know that what had happened was rape. What nobody said was how good it could feel. How it could be your uncle. How you could be conflicted because you kind of wanted it? I wouldn’t completely mind it if he did it again.

I was sick. I knew something was wrong with me. How could I have enjoyed it?

The next morning was awkward. I didn’t say much to my aunt and I couldn’t make eye contact with my uncle. He merely told me to have a great day and I went to school.

It amazed me how everything seemed so normal. Nobody was looking at me in any particular way. They just looked past me as usual.

It was during P.E. that things hit the fan. Those four bastards cornered me and tried to get me to give them the answers to their homework. I could have easily done it, but I wasn’t going to. They forever make me do their work if I did. I hit Blithe in the nose and we got into an all out brawl. I don’t think we would have been caught if there wasn’t an audience gaining. A teacher walked by and saw what was happening. I got Blithe, but they all got me.

I was sent home. My uncle came to get me.

I thought it would be more awkward, but he only talked about the fight. How I should try to ignore them and that they just wanted attention.

He dropped me off at home and went to work.

My aunt called on her lunch break. I was still nervous to talk to her. She just sounded disappointed that I had resulted to violence. I think she was thinking of my dad. Or hers.

When 5:37 hit uncle Drake was home like clockwork. I used to look forward to it, but not I was sort of scared.

I didn’t think he would hurt me, but who knows?

He didn’t.

He came into my room, talked to me about science, rubbed my shoulders, kissed my head and left.

Maybe he was really trying to thank me the day before?

This went on until school let out for the break. I, for the most part, put everything behind me. I had aced my classes, started talking to my aunt more, and even picked back up my personal studies.

I was totally unprepared for my uncle to come in and push me on the bed. I had stood up when I heard the door open. He locked the door this time.

He didn’t push me hard, he just pushed me enough to fall onto my back.

“It’s okay Bruce. I’m not going to hurt you. I just want to try something different this time. You liked what I did the first time right?”

“I don’t think we should.”

“I know you might feel a little confused right now and that’s natural. You’re still growing into your sexuality and all. I just want you to feel how much I care about you. I don’t want you to have any doubt that you are wanted ok sport?”

For a few seconds I believed his crap, but I knew it was wrong. Uncles shouldn’t sneak into your rooms and do things he should be doing with his wife.

“I don’t want to.”

“Bruce just relax.”

He was putting his weight on me to keep me down.

“I’m just going to try something and then we can stop okay? I don’t want you to be scared or anything. I think you can take it.”

I just wanted him to leave.

“Ok.”

I barely whispered it. I figures if I let him have what he wanted he would leave me alone. He pulled a small bottle out of his pocket.

“It’ll make it easier to go in.”

My eyes must have gotten big because he was quick to reassure me.

“It might sting, but I know how to make it feel really good for you. Trust me on this.”

He wasn’t really giving me a choice. He lifted off of me and rolled me over. He tugged my pants down and his.

“We’ll start slow.”

He rubbed me until I got hard. When he stopped I was a little miffed because I was starting to feel good. On the other hand, I was nervous because I knew what he was working his way to.

I don’t know when it happened, but he was hard too. He pressed it against me. It felt weird. He opened to bottle and put some on his fingers. He spent 19 ½ minutes stretching me with his fingers.

Apparently I was really tight and I wasn’t relaxing enough. HE was peppering my back with kisses and running his fingers through my hair. It got my mind off of the stinging pain for a little bit.

I was completely blindsided when he started putting himself in me. It hurt. Like hell.

I was gasping for air. Instead of stopping, he reached under me and fondled me. It made the pain bearable but it was still there.

“Shit Bruce, you’ve got a vice grip. Relax. I’ll find your spot and make you pop.”

I didn’t know what he was talking about and I didn’t care. I just wanted this to be over.

For a few minutes he was just pumping into me and telling me that it was going to get better.

He was sort of right. He found my prostate and hit it until I made a mess on the bed. HE kept going until he swelled and spilled inside of me.

It felt strange.

He cleaned me up.

I thought he would leave, but he held me while I cried.

“It’s fine now Bruce. I know there was a little pain, but it went away right?”

He wasn’t really expecting an answer and I didn’t give him one. My ass was on fire.

“Cry it out son. I know. You’re probably feeling overwhelmed right now. Just know that I love you. I want you to enjoy this with me.”

I was sobbing into the bed and he just kept holding me. I couldn’t move away from him.

I cried and cried. I made myself sleep because I came to the realization that he wasn’t going to leave until I did.

I don’t know how, but I managed to sleep. It was fitful, but it was sleep.

The next day I had to myself. I was out of school, but my aunt and uncle still had work.

My aunt came home for lunch that day. I was moving slow and it kind of hurt to sit for too long.

“You okay Bruce?”

I was quick to assure that yes, everything was fine.

“Drake said you were feeling a little warm yesterday.”

“Probably just from stress from finals.”

“Oh? How do you think you did?”

“Well. I just had a lot on my plate.”

I didn’t talk much after that. I was content just listening.

The more I thought about my uncle the sicker I became. As soon as my aunt left back for work I ran to the nearest bin and threw up mu lunch. I didn’t want my uncle’s attention anymore.

It was messing with my head and making me lose sleep. On top of that I was sore and having weird dreams.

I made up my mind that I would tell him to stop.

I told him. He didn’t take it well.

“Do you want to go to a home Bruce? Wasn’t I kind to you? Didn’t you say it felt good?”

“I know. I know what I said, but what we did was bad.”

He grabbed my face.

“No Bruce. I know you’re scared --“

“Please uncle Drake. I just don’t want to do this anymore.”

“Do you have any idea of how selfish you’re being. I spend time with you. No one else does. I took you in when I could have let you go to a boy’s home. I took you into my  _home_. Look at me. I care about you Bruce. Do you believe that?”

I didn’t know what to believe but I nodded my head anyway so that he would let go of my face.

“Good. It’s important that you know that. Now lay down.”

“Please— “

HE cut me off. Pushed me down and had his way with me. It was less gentle this time. I cried the whole way through. He didn’t stay afterward. But before he left he threatened me.

“I know you’re not a bad kid Bruce. I know you just want to do the right thing. I can admire that. But if you tell your aunt she won’t even believe you. And if she does, you still go to a boy’s home. I’m not trying to scare you. I’m just letting you know your options.”

I cleaned myself up after he left and slept on the floor. The bed wasn’t comfortable anymore.

He came to me 4 more times in the span of a month. School had started back and I was glad for the distraction.

My uncle was gentle again. I hated it more. When I was supposed to be sleeping I would spend my time thinking about how my dad never did this to me. How I would prefer the beatings to this. I didn’t want to do this, but he wasn’t going to stop.

And he knew I wasn’t going to tell. I love my aunt and I didn’t want to be sent away. She was my last chance.

It was her who ended up finding us. He was grunting behind me. I was trying to pretend to be somewhere else while he hit every spot he knew I responded to. She opened the door and screamed so loud I thought I had bust my ear drums.

She pulled him off of me while he tried to make excuses.

She threatened to call the cops and he took off.

She apologized to me. For not knowing. For not seeing. For being too busy.

I only cried more. I wanted to apologize for not telling. For allowing it the first time. For enjoying it. But I said nothing I just cried. The medics were called and two detectives met me at the hospital.

I gave a statement and they left. When it was just me and my aunt I confessed. About how I said ok the first time. How I liked it at some points. How I knew what I was doing was bad but that I didn’t know what else to do.

She told me it was ok. Not to feel bad about “responding to his advances.” It was natural. He was the bad guy. Not me.

I wanted so desperately to believe her, but a part of me couldn’t. She didn’t let me out of her sight for days after that. She would randomly apologize to me and stop me before I could do the same. She really didn’t blame me.

She was a good person. I didn’t deserve her. I deserve the abusive fathers, the name-calling peers, the handsy uncles, and the low self-esteem. I deserved those things.

Not the sympathy, the empathy, the understanding, and the love she showered me with.

It took me years to come to terms with my dad, yet alone my uncle.

They divorced.

I blamed myself. She blamed him.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Hearing Steve and Thor try to battle what they feel is  _hard_. I know they are where I was. When I was 27 I promised myself that I would one day be the person I needed as a kid. I wanted to be the person my mom wasn’t allowed to be; the person my aunt  _was_ allowed to be.

It was hard telling them about my uncle and they didn’t really get the point but I’m hopeful that they will. It needed to be said.

It just takes time.

I made a list of things for JARVIS to send to the team to help them through the night.

  1. Sleep with a night light. It’s okay. Use it when you need it. It’s not embarrassing and no one will judge you for it (the Other Guy will make sure of that)
  2. White noise. It distracts you from your thoughts long enough to get some sleep or at least for a nap and
  3. Cartoon movies. They aren’t real but they always end happily. You have enough things to worry about, give yourself a break



**Notes for the Chapter:**

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